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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803925">Daddy's Dragon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff'>danpuff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yes, Daddy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Daddy Kink, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, One Shot, Voyeurism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:55:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If Harry can have a daddy, then so can Draco.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley, Harry Potter/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Yes, Daddy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>414</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Daddy's Dragon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m a dragon trainer, you know.”</p><p>They are the first words Charlie ever speaks to Draco Malfoy. He knows of the young man, of course. If not for their families’ rivalry, the postwar trial coverage had made his face well known. It is that face - those sharp angles, and his fair coloring - that Charlie cares about now. Rivalries and allegiances are all in the past. The silver eyes are narrowing at him <i>now</i>, and that pointed nose lifts into the air <i>now</i>, and <i>now</i> has always mattered more to Charlie than the rest. </p><p>“You’re a Weasley,” Draco retorts disdainfully. </p><p>The Ministry’s third annual Victory Day celebration is in full swing, and few people remain sitting. The two are alone at their table, and Charlie had migrated into the empty seat beside Draco. Pulled nearer, intrigued by his regal posture and his petulant mouth. A prissy prince on his throne, he would have you think.</p><p>Charlie knows better.</p><p>“And you're a dragon,” Charlie tells him.</p>
<hr/><p>At the end of the night, Charlie asks Draco for a dance - not then and there, but the following weekend at a club on Horizont Alley. Draco does not respond, but he watches him leave, and he shows up promptly at seven the following Saturday. He wears stylish lilac robes, so out of place among the more casually dressed. </p><p>Draco likes standing out. He likes the eyes on him. He also foolishly thinks himself above them, but that is a dragon’s way. Charlie quietly admonishes him for his rudeness to the barkeep. But he pays for his drinks, like a gentleman, and like a gentleman is not handsy on the dance floor. And if other dancers try to touch, Charlie calmly corrects their behavior and, failing that, firmly removes unwanted hands. </p><p>By the end of the night, Draco is confused and subdued, but finds his fire again when Charlie walks him to his door. “Can I kiss you?” Charlie asks.</p><p>“’May’ I,” he snottily retorts. </p><p>Charlie frowns and looks steadily into his eyes until Draco blinks and looks away. “There’s no need to be rude, dragon.” </p><p>“Sorry, <i>sir</i>.” </p><p>Only when the gray eyes return to him does Charlie nod and say, “We should do this again sometime. Goodnight.” </p><p>“Aren’t you going to kiss me?”</p><p>“Not tonight.”</p>
<hr/><p>Their second date is dinner in Hogsmeade. Draco is rude to the waitstaff, but Charlie corrects him with quiet words and sharp looks. He is much more polite when Charlie asks for a kiss on his doorstep. Pale cheeks pinken and Draco gives a small nod. “Speak up,” Charlie prompts and only when Draco whispers, “Yes, you may,” does Charlie cup his face in both hands and kiss him softly.</p>
<hr/><p>Charlie visits nearly every weekend for three months. His mother is thrilled, since he stays nights at the Burrow, and shares lunch with his family. Dinners he reserves for Draco, though he does not reveal this to his family just yet. It does not do to spook a dragon.  </p><p>One weekend, when Lucius and Narcissa are away, Draco invites Charlie to Malfoy Manor. They fly after a snitch for an hour around the spacious yard. Draco catches it all three times, and he is flushed and sweaty and grinning and beautiful when he lands. Charlie watches him with a fond smile as they dismount, and follows Draco to store the brooms. </p><p>It is with a playful air that Draco narrows his eyes and slaps Charlie’s chest. It is more reflex than thought that cause Charlie to pin the hand in place before he can move away, and the words halt in Draco’s throat. Draco squirms beneath Charlie’s stare, beneath his grip. </p><p>“You let me win,” Draco finally accuses. </p><p>Charlie shrugs, because there are things more important than winning. “It made you happy.” </p><p>Draco glances away nervously then steps closer, places his free hand beside his trapped one. The tone is an attempt at boldness, but wavers at the end of, “You can make me happy upstairs.” </p><p>And Charlie does, though he takes his time. Draco’s seduction is sweet, if clumsy, and he makes Draco confess that he is a virgin. Draco tries to lie, tries to deflect, but Charlie does not stand for it, no matter how appealing he is. Charlie makes him admit it. Makes him ask to be taken. Makes him say “please.”</p>
<hr/><p>Dragons are hard, but rewarding, work. It requires more than brute strength to overpower them. The real trick is patience. It takes charm and shrewdness and steadiness. The physical stamina is easy; it is the mental and emotional burden that breaks lesser wizards. </p><p>Charlie takes care with his fair haired dragon. He spoils him as he can, with affection and experience, and what gifts he can afford. Charlie gives freely his smiles and kisses and compliments. But he does not surrender to demands, or rudeness. </p><p>Sometimes, when Charlie puts his foot down, Draco calls him “sir” - sometimes it is sarcastic, and sometimes it is contrite. He is “master” once or twice, and “m’lord” only once, and “Alpha” a handful of times. Draco is “dragon” and “pet”, more often than not. It is all in good fun, really.</p>
<hr/><p>It was only supposed to be fun, from the start, but it is so clearly more when Draco accompanies him to New Zealand in September. It’s only a few weeks helping out at the Opaleye sanctuary, and though he suggests the trip because Draco will enjoy the sight of them - and he will - Charlie knows the truth is that he does not want to be away from his lover for so long.</p><p>On the fifth night of their stay, Charlie offers two items to Draco. One is a dragonhide collar, the other a cuff of iridescent scales. The collar Charlie leaves for Draco to decide, but he puts the scaled cuff on Draco’s wrist and kisses his hand. “For my Opaleye.” </p><p>When Charlie meets his eyes, he finds them a molten silver - hot and bright and soft all at once. His heart skips  a beat when Draco kisses him. He loves the little brat, Charlie realizes. Silly that he hadn’t known sooner.</p>
<hr/><p>To Charlie’s surprise, Draco does wear the collar. But only in bed. And only when he’s calling Charlie “sir” or “Alpha” or “master.”</p>
<hr/><p>They only discover what Draco really wants during his first visit to the Burrow. The whole family gathers for Molly’s fifty-first birthday. The family has grown too large for the house, so they gather outside to play and mingle and eat. Draco is stiffly polite to his parents, but snipes at his siblings. His siblings, Ron in particular, are not innocent themselves, and Charlie shoots them looks of warning until the squabbling ceases. Only Harry goes out of his way to play nice. He takes Draco’s snobbery in stride, turning venom into playfulness with skill. </p><p>Skill learned from his own Slytherin lover, Charlie supposes. Though Harry chats with Draco, and Severus is pulled into one of Hermione and Percy’s debates, they cannot quite keep their eyes off of each other. Charlie is as confused as the rest of the family as to this coupling, but one cannot deny the sparks between them. It feels indecent to look at them when their eyes meet. As if one glance alone is the equal of fucking on the table. </p><p>Only because Charlie is paying such close attention - for the sake of his lover, and his curiosity about the other couple - does he hear pieces of what Harry murmurs to his lover. “We could - … Don’t you - … C’mon, Daddy - …”</p><p>Charlie schools his expression easily. Draco has to turn his face to hide his blush and the widening of his eyes. It is more than just shock he spies in his lover, but his young niece is thrust into his arms before he can explore this. </p><p>By the time he hands Victoire back to Fleur, Harry and Severus are gone. And so is Draco.</p>
<hr/><p>They are easy enough to find in the empty house. It is well and good that the family is still chatting and eating and playing. Because neither Harry nor Severus had thought to cast a Silencing Charm on the bathroom before fucking, and Harry’s sob of, “<i>GodfuckpleaseDaddy</i>” is loud and clear. </p><p>Charlie might have turned and walked back outside, were he not hunting a dragon. And though he cannot imagine <i>why</i> Draco would be in Ginny’s room, certainly not when it is right beside the occupied bathroom, the door is cracked rather than closed. So though his ears burn, he creeps closer to the bedroom. “<i>Oh, <b>there</b>, yes, Daddy, oh, Daddy, <b>please</b>,</i>” covers the creaking of the door as Charlie pushes it further open. </p><p>Draco’s periwinkle robes are a heap on the floor. Draco himself leans against the wall - the wall separating the bedroom from the bathroom. Gray eyes are squeezed shut, white teeth digging into pink lip as Draco strokes himself. Charlie swallows. </p><p>The desire might have been for Draco alone. Charlie’s own arousal is stoked by his lover pleasuring himself, and he reaches between his own legs in response. It might have been in part the sounds of fervent fucking next door. Calling one’s older lover “daddy” should be disturbing, but it’s not, not when Harry’s wailing it out the way he is. Not when Draco bites into his own arm, comes into his own hand, at the sound of it. </p><p>“Fuck,” Charlie gasps. He’s leaning against the door frame, fisting his own cock. Draco looks up in alarm. He’s never been redder, never looked younger, and Charlie hisses and strokes himself faster. He does not hear anything from the bathroom, but Draco must, for he rushes to haul Charlie into the room and quietly shuts the door. The bathroom door opens not ten seconds later, as Draco grabs the back of Charlie’s neck and kisses him sloppily. Draco takes over touching Charlie, using the hand slick with his own come. It’s that - the slickness, knowing where it’s from, knowing what got him off - that pushes Charlie over the edge. He bites Draco’s lip harder than he means to, groans into his mouth as he comes. </p><p>Draco’s lip is swollen and bleeding. The left side of his hair is mussed from where he leaned against the wall. His trousers hang open around his waist, cock hanging limp. Pinkness stains his porcelain skin, gray eyes clouded in humiliation where they stare down at his messy hand. His shoulders are hunched in, and Charlie’s never seen him so dejected, and he hates it. He hates it more so because he sees his lover in a new light now, and he can’t help but blurt out, “I fucking love you.” </p><p>Gray eyes flicker, as if meaning to look at him, but change direction last second. He glares at the door behind Charlie instead. At least he stands taller and straightens his shoulders. He tucks himself back in and does up his trousers then snarls, “You say it <i>now</i>?”</p><p>“I had no idea you were so perverted until now, pet,” Charlie laughs. There is a tickle of shame in his belly, but he barely feels it beneath the warmth flooding him from head to toe. </p><p>“You’re one to talk about perversion,” Draco sniffs indignantly. He shoves Charlie aside to throw open the door and stalk out. Charlie grins and follows.</p>
<hr/><p>They do not see one another for a week, which gives Charlie time to think and Draco time to calm down. Draco sits regally before Charlie on Saturday evening. Their dinner is a show of haughtiness from Draco and amusement from Charlie, though Draco never seems to catch on. </p><p>What tension existed in Draco at the start of the night is gone by the time they return to the manor. The opulence of Draco’s bedroom does not intimidate him, but Draco draws strength from his fine furnishings. He might fool a casual observer for a prince, in his elegant dove gray robes and the shiny silver jewelry and the sleek platinum hair. He might fool them with his stately bearing and his cultured tone and his princely name. </p><p>Pretty Draco may be, but he is no prince. He is Charlie’s pompous little pet. A spoiled dragon taking refuge in a castle, wearing his little crown and breathing fire at the peasants, as if he isn’t just as wild and coarse as they are. </p><p>When Draco kisses him, it is demanding. Hands slide into his hair, grasp the back of his head, as tongue slides insistently against his lips. Charlie opens his mouth and takes control. It is a smooth transition from Draco taking, to Draco surrendering. There is never any fight. His show of aggression is only ever that: a show. </p><p>“Strip for me, pet,” Charlie murmurs against his mouth. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Draco gasps.</p><p>“Daddy,” Charlie corrects. He is already at work, one arm firm around Draco’s waist while his other hand strokes soothingly up and down his spine. Draco stiffens as he predicts, and Charlie kisses him to forestall any arguments. “Strip now, love. Yes?”</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>Charlie kisses him again and again before freeing him. Only Draco stands there rather than obeying. Confusion, yes, and shame, even, but also the starts of anger. It won’t do at all to let Draco misbehave, not tonight. So Charlie smiles and kisses his forehead. “Do you want Daddy to strip you instead?” Draco only blinks, so Charlie unfastens the front of his lovely robes. “You like it. I can tell. I could tell last week, too. It’s alright, you know? I can be your daddy.” Draco swallows. “I can be your master or your alpha or your daddy. I can be whatever you want me to be.”</p><p>“And if I want you to be my servant?” Draco drawls.</p><p>“Oh, I’d never believe that.” Charlie kisses him, then, to soothe away whatever fear is building. Beneath his hands and mouth Draco relaxes again. Relaxes enough for Charlie to remove robes and trousers and shirt and jewelry. Enough for Charlie to pick him up and lay him out on the bed. Enough to sigh sweetly when Charlie kisses down his ribs. </p><p>The wariness only creeps back in when Charlie steps away to strip. “You were really something that night, you know? I was so turned on, I don’t even remember pulling my cock out. Watching you like that. Touching your pretty pink prick.” Draco gasps and his cock twitches. Charlie drops his shirt to the floor then leans over to kiss his way up the shaft. “My perverted little pet listening to his perverted little friend.” </p><p>“Potter is <i>not</i> - my - my friend,” Draco argues.</p><p>“But you have so much in common,” Charlie teases. He works off his boots and trousers, and keeps talking over Draco’s objections. “Two handsome little boys who want their daddies to please them, isn’t that right? Two pretty, athletic, <i>filthy</i> little boys. And, by the sound of it, you both like a good solid fucking, don’t you?” Draco props himself up on his hands, mouth open to argue, but the words die away when Charlie palms his eager prick. “Only I wonder if Harry would like to listen to you as much as you enjoyed listening to him.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Draco moans. </p><p>“Oh, but you’re so hard for me, pet.” Charlie wraps his fingers around his cock and strokes him lazily. “Or would you prefer ‘baby’, do you think? ‘Doll’, ‘angel’? ‘Brat’, more like.”</p><p>“<i>Charlie</i>.”</p><p>“Daddy.” </p><p>Draco turns his head, but his hips press up against his hand and his fingers curl in the sheets. Any lingering concerns float away as Charlie watches him. He does like it, and he doesn’t think he should, but Charlie’s going to help him. He begins by joining him in bed. Propped up on one arm, he leans in to kiss Draco as his other hand moves down, cupping his bollocks and rubbing against his perineum. Further back still, he strokes over the furled entrance to his body as he whispers an incantation against his mouth. </p><p>“I love you. You know that, don’t you?” Charlie reminds him. There is no verbal response, but Draco’s needy kiss tells him all he needs to know. Draco presses back against his fingers, but Charlie does nothing more than stroke the now slick hole as he asks, “You want this, baby boy?”</p><p>“<i>Oh God - yes</i>,” Draco whines. </p><p>“Good. That’s good.” With that permission, Charlie slips his finger inside. Draco shifts his legs and hips, inviting Charlie in deeper. He asks for more before he’s ready, like he always does. Most days Charlie might slow him down, but tonight he gives him what he wants. “You’re always so greedy, brat,” Charlie teases. “Lucky for you, I’m spoiling you tonight.” </p><p>“Charlie!” Draco gasps.</p><p>“Daddy,” Charlie reminds him. “You can have as many fingers as you like, but you won’t get my cock until you call me Daddy.”</p><p>One hand clutches the silk sheets beneath him, the other grasps and claws whatever part of Charlie he can reach. Charlie contents himself by pressing his own arousal against Draco’s hip. He presses two, then three fingers deep inside of his lover. Draco writhes on them. He presses his face into Charlie’s chest to pant and moan. He looks so helpless in his pleasure, in his need. It will be difficult for even Charlie to tell him no tonight, but he is determined. Little boys never learn their lesson if their daddies don’t stand firm. </p><p>“Please. <i>Please</i>. Fuck me.”</p><p>“You know what you have to say.”</p><p>“Charlie, <i>please</i>. I <i>need it</i>. Fuck me, <i>please</i>.”</p><p>“Not that word, baby.”</p><p>A frustrated sound is muffled against Charlie’s chest as Draco squirms against him. His cock is leaking, dripping precome onto his stomach. Charlie presses his fingers in deeper and curls them just so until Draco is puffing against his skin.  </p><p>“C’mon, love. It’s only a word. Just one little word and you can have what you want,” Charlie murmurs, kissing his sweaty brow. “’Daddy’, that’s all you have to say. Nobody will know. It’s our little secret. Just between you and Daddy.”</p><p>Draco shakes his head, so Charlie kisses his sweaty brow and waits. Waits when Draco huffs and begins to stroke himself. Waits as Draco gives it up and drops his hand away, because it’s not what he wants. Only when Charlie gently scissors his fingers does he feel Draco’s lips move against his skin, hears the faintest trace of his voice. </p><p>“You know I can’t hear that, baby boy. Say it again for me?”</p><p>He feels Draco’s tongue brush his skin as he licks his lips. “D-d…<i>Daddy</i>. Please?”</p><p>“That’s right, love. You’re such a good boy.” </p><p>“<i>Ohgod<b>please</b></i>,” Draco whines as Charlie rolls on top of him. He pulls his fingers free, replaces them with his cock as soon as he can. And when he does, Draco sobs out, “Daddy!”</p><p>“Yes, that’s right,” Charlie breathes. He holds himself up on his arms, caging Draco in beneath him. His young lover grasps his thick biceps, and his slim legs wrap around Charlie’s hips to urge him closer. “I’m your daddy.” </p><p>“Fuck!” Draco squeaks, his nails digging into Charlie’s skin. Both look down as Draco's release spills between them. Draco appears startled by his own reaction, and as the embarrassment sets in Charlie kisses him deeply. Because Draco should not be ashamed for what he enjoys. And while Charlie is surprised, he is also incredibly turned on. </p><p>“Look at you, baby. Did you like that? Do you want Daddy to keep fucking you? Is it too much? What would you like? For being so sweet?"</p><p>“Oh,” Draco breathes. “Use me, Daddy. Please.”</p><p>“<i>Fuck</i>,” Charlie grunts. “Say it again.”</p><p>“U-use me, Daddy. Fuck - <i>fuck</i> me. Daddy. <i>Daddy</i>.” </p><p>It is <i>filthy</i>. Draco always begs so sweetly for it, but this is new. Charlie knows he is not opposed to being called ‘Daddy’, but he did not know it would do this to him. It should not be as hot as it is, but it <i>is</i>. Charlie wants it to last longer, wants to drag it out, but Draco can tell. Draco knows Charlie as well as Charlie knows him, and he knows what he’s doing when he squeezes around him, when he pleads, “Come in me, Daddy, please. Come in your baby boy. Please, Daddy, I want it, I want you to. Oh, <i>Daddy</i>.” </p><p>“God <i>fuck</i>!” It hits him hard and fast, pleasure exploding through him and out of him as he buries himself as deeply inside of Draco as he can. Harder than he means to, really, but Draco holds him close and tight. </p><p>It takes a moment for his brain to reconnect. When it does, he is panting into Draco’s neck. And he thinks that he hasn’t come so fast in a long time, and certainly never so taken by surprise. <i>What the fuck,</i> he thinks to himself. No title has ever done this for him. It’s only ever a spot of fun, more for his lovers than himself. But <i>that</i>. That was something else. Something he had not expected. </p><p>Nor had Draco. </p><p>Draco’s eyes are wide as they stare up at the ceiling. Charlie rolls them onto their sides and pulls Draco into his arms to kiss his face. “Are you with me, Draco?”</p><p>“…hmm?”</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>Gray eyes blink, then find his. Charlie strokes his thumbs across the sharp cheekbones and kisses his lips softly over and over until Draco kisses him back.</p><p>“Did you like it, Draco?” </p><p>Draco shyly hides his face in Charlie’s neck, and he only barely hears him whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to my friends on Discord for helping inspire and build this story! (And for always supporting my FILTH.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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